


Plugged In

by flinchflower



Series: The 50kinkyways [18]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Plug, M/M, Spanking, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-03
Updated: 2011-09-03
Packaged: 2017-10-23 09:13:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/248656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flinchflower/pseuds/flinchflower
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt 17: Anal Plugs.  Dean’s Retaliation to Sam's prank in prompt 16.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Plugged In

**Author's Note:**

> I borrowed the characters originally so I could use them as a writing exercise, to see how close I could get the characterization. Then I was corrupted by porn. And kink. Here’s a side of kink. This is simply for practice, not publication or profit. I’m in the hole by about 30 grand, if you’d like to seize my debt as punishment. AU in that I refuse to admit the death of John Winchester.

Sam may have a pre-law degree from Stanford, and his IQ is far higher than either Dean’s or John’s, but he doesn’t hold a candle to his brother when it comes to sneaky and underhanded. They have their prank wars, and yeah, it’s fun, but it’s usually Dean who has the last laugh, and it’s looking like this time isn’t any different. When their father showed up, just in time to watch Dean discover the first of a plethora of vibrators, Sam’s latest prank, Sam has been slightly disappointed, since he’d hoped for Dean to take revenge by using them one by one on Sam. Certainly, that wouldn’t be happening now that they had to spend a few weeks with their dad, but disappointment has taken a sideline. John has laughed himself nearly sick a couple of times as the rest of the condoms and vibes were discovered over a few days, and that’s a hell of a thing, really.

It’s just that Sam’s not laughing right now. After a week in the cabin passed, Sam figured he was safe, that Dean didn’t feel like taking a turn over John Winchester’s knee for a spanking – and both of them knew that despite being 23 and 27, their dad wouldn’t hesitate if they started with the pranks again. And currently? Sam’s wondering if a spanking wouldn’t be preferable.

The three of them are sitting around the breakfast table, and only Sam is uncomfortable. John sent Dean over a couple towns to obtain a reference book yesterday, and really, the cheerful mood Dean was sporting should have warned him, but both he and Dad chalked it up to three days without finding a vibrator, and a chance to drive his beloved car. Only, not so. The boys had woken up in their room early that morning, hearing the front door close as John went out for his morning run. And then Dean had pounced.

Sam was pinned within seconds, stark naked and hollering, not that it did any good. Dean had tied him down, and Sam’s cock had come to life, thinking that maybe Dean had a quickie in mind, because dad would be gone for a good hour and a half. Instead, he had found himself on his stomach, Dean drizzling fucking cold lube between his cheeks. And then he felt the pressure. It wasn’t one of Dean’s fingers, and it certainly wasn’t Dean’s dick, because it was cold. Sam had twisted for a look, and Dean had backed off, held up a butt plug, and given Sam a dangerous grin. Then he’d plunged it in, and while Sam was fighting the intrusive burn, he’d strapped Sam into a harness that was meant to hold the plug in place, and snapped a tiny little lock shut.

“There you go, little brother. Guess what you get to wear indefinitely? Don’t think you’re gonna squeal to Dad about that.”

Sam’s moment of shock extended into several minutes of astonishment, and watching Dean’s cocky grin. Then he tried for reason.

“Dean. Come on. I do need to use the bathroom once in a while,” he said, shifting and feeling the plug bump against his prostate, causing an electric surge to pulse along his cock.

“Oh, don’t worry – I won’t make you sleep with it in. But during the day? All those long hours sitting at the table with Dad going through papers? You are so wearing that, kid.”

“You wish. Tomorrow, new story, Dean.”

“Oh, I don’t think so,” purred Dean. “You’ll wear the damn thing during the day until Dad takes the overnight trip he’s been starting to talk about, I’ll fuck you into the mattress a couple times, and we’ll call it good.” He wiggled the plug and Sam groaned. “Unless, of course, you’d like me to salt YOUR belongings with practical joke items, and suffer through Dad spanking you.”

Sam buried his head under a pillow. He was fucked. Literally. And quite possibly six ways to Sunday, too, depending on what day Dad headed out. Dean’s throaty laugh rang through the room as he climbed off of Sam and hit the shower.

And so here he sits, poring over research papers, with a raging hard on, and the uncomfortable sensation of being full, for the third day in a row. Dean keeps bumping into him, making Sam have to shift in his seat to keep his balance. John’s watching the exchange wryly, knowing that something is up, but he’s not going to ask, because he doesn’t want to tip the balance between his two boys, risk a fight, not when he’s about to run an overnight errand and leave the boys here.

“Dean, you boys have any hyssop in your kit?” He’ll make sure he’s got what he needs for this trip, give them some breathing space.

“Uh, in the blue duffel, I think,” says Sam, and John gets up to go fetch it. They both hear the muffled exclamation, and Dean’s eyes go wide, and he fishes desperately in his pocket, slaps a tiny key in Sam’s hand.

“Oh god. I’m sorry, Sam – go, go get out of that thing - quick.” Sam’s not quite sure what’s going on, but it’s the out he’s been looking for and he’ll ask questions after the damn butt plug is finally out, and he’s jacked off – fortunately that won’t take long. He can hear his father yelling over the water he’s running in the sink. Relief finally obtained, he approaches the yelling from the kitchen tentatively.

“Samuel Winchester,” roars John. “You think you’re just waiting for me to leave and start up the damn prank war, after I told you not to?”

“Huh?” Sam is genuinely bewildered.

“What?” John recognizes the blank, confused look on his youngest boy’s face, and turns with intent to the culprit. “Dean. Bedroom. Now.” He watches Dean go, and then turns to Sam. “I am serious,” he says, irritation still punctuating his words. “No pranks. If I’ve told you boys once, I’ve told you a thousand times that I don’t mind the occasional prank, but the escalating? You sit down right there until I’m done with your brother.” Sam sits quickly, and John stomps out of the room. The sound of the spanking is pretty damn loud, and Sam feels some vindication. He pulls John’s kit to him, and starts doublechecking the herbs there.

John’s out shortly, and gives Sam an appraising look. He wraps a strong hand around Sam’s arm, and Sam stands obediently, and winces as John lands half a dozen swats on Sam’s behind, telling him it’s a reminder, and that there’ll be worse if Sam doesn’t mind it. Then he settles down, and the two men spend the next couple hours going through John’s weapons, his hunting kit, making sure he’s prepared, even though it’s just a run to pick up some research material from Pastor Jim. It’s dark by the time he leaves, and Sam approaches the bedroom tentatively.

Dean is lying face down on his bed, bright red ass still uncovered. He turns to look at Sam, and Sam kneels on the bed beside him, runs a hand over the blazing warmth. Dean shudders, and Sam looks at him.

“That turn you on?”

“You touching does.”

“Wanna do something about it?”

Dean just pulls him down wordlessly, and neither one of them is surprised when Dean has the orgasm of his life. Sam, on the other hand, refuses to let Dean to fuck him, on the grounds that he’s too sore.


End file.
